The Outsiders: Pixi’s Side of the Story
by MGannMorrz
Summary: Pixi is a girl living the life of a greaser and finds herself in over her head when she meets the Outsider’s gang. Equipped with quick thinking skills and plenty of wit, she just might be able to make a place for herself after years of needing one.
1. Chapter One

My name is Pixi-Stix. Okay, no judgement. Personally, I think it's kinda sexy in its own way when I go by Pixi. I hang out with a guy named Two-Bit, so Pixi sounds pretty good in comparison. Just don't tell anyone I said that. With long Auburn hair and piercing emerald eyes, I've always considered my looks slightly above average. But this story isn't about my looks. It's about incredible feats of friendship and loyalty.

When I first talked with my best friend, Two-Bit, he tried to hit on me. He was drunk. He's always drunk, so we get along pretty well. Two-Bit Matthews is the kind of guy who just won't ever shut up, especially because he can't stop cracking jokes. He also has a knack for thievery, which is how we first met. I shoved him into a bucket of ice water at a party when he tried to steal my cigarette lighter, and we've been friends ever since. The one thing he despises most is to be called by his real name, Keith, so that's obviously what I call him when he pisses me off. Which is most of the time.

"So, I'm headed over to the Curtis' house tonight. The gang'll be there, and you gotta meet 'em sometime. Wanna come?" he asks me, and tosses a can of coke in my direction from across the room. I open it as carefully as I can, but to my dismay, it explodes all over me.

"Damn it! Seriously, Two-Bit? It took me, like, three years to save up for these jeans! You're ruining my rep, here." I say, and race to the napkins. He grins.

"Hey, you opened it, Sugar Crash. And your jeans wouldn't be a problem if you just wore dresses like normal broads," I glare at him, "So, do you want to come, or not?"

"Okay, maybe. It's not like I have anything else to do, especially around here." he agrees, and I walk out the glass doors of the diner where Two-Bit's mother works. She's been a single mother ever since Two-Bit's father walked out on them, and she's always working double shifts to provide for herself and Two-Bit. He never talks about his father, but I can tell it hurt him deeply to not have a dad around. It's unfortunate, but almost everything about the greaser life is. I should probably explain that term. The "Greasers" are the poor families on the East side of town. We're known for our hair slicked back with grease and leather jackets. Our rivals, the "Socs" (short for (socials), are the West side rich kids who think it's fun to make the Greasers' lives hell. Two-Bit follows me out the door and we wait at the bus station.

"I'm heading over now, so if you don't want to come early, I'll give ya the address." Two-Bit says, as he climbs the steps to the newly arrived bus and sits down on the torn leather seat. I toss a couple of coins in the bus fare jar and sit down next to him.

"Honestly, I don't have the nerve to show up alone. A before party sounds fine to me." for some reason, I've always been nervous about meeting the gang. I guess the idea of me and seven other guys felt kind of awkward. But I promised Two-Bit I would meet the people who gave him confidence and encouraged him to be himself, and I'm not about to take back my word. Hey, who knows? Maybe there's a hot one.

When the bus stops at a dilapidated house on the edge of town, I have a feeling we've reached our destination. I see an old car parked in the driveway, and a tall, raven-haired guy shut and lock its door. He was incredibly muscular, and had a strong stance, like a natural born leader.

"That's Darry. Ponyboy's the youngest, then Sodapop, then Darry, who we all call Superman from time to time." Two-Bit explains as we both walk closer to the Curtis' residence.

"No kidding." I whisper as we reach the gorgeous, newly-discovered creature resembling a certain caped crusader.

"Two-Bit! You came early. Is this a friend, or...?" he starts.

"I'm Pixi. Let's get this out of the way, alright," I point to Two-Bit, "I'm not some date of his, I'm just a friend. I have a taste for the finer things in life, trust me." I look back at Darry. Mistake. As I notice his sky blue eyes, I decide that Darry has got to be the hot one in the gang. Then I realize he's staring at me, his eyes wide, with slightly raised eyebrows. Got to make sure he doesn't think I'm mental. "Okay, this is perfect. Sorry, I'm kinda bad at talking to people, especially those of the male variety, so please don't think I'm insane." I plead. He looks blank for a second, and then smiles. Well, that's a start.

"Don't worry. He's used to insanity by now. It happens to run in the family." a golden-haired greaser with blue-green eyes says as he appears behind me, alongside him a guy with really greasy, curly, combed hair. "I'm Sodapop, and this is Steve," he motions to the guy next to him, "and your name?" he asks me.

"Right. I'm Pixi-Stix. Pixi for short. Obviously, it's a nickname. Most of you have them, right?" the room gets deathly quiet, and Sodapop's face turns red.

"Well, actually, Two-Bit's the only one with a nickname. Sodapop is my real name, and Ponyboy isn't fake either." Soda finally says, and I feel a wave of color creep up my neck.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry...I just assumed...wow, I'm stupid." for the next fifteen seconds all I know is silence and tense faces, until something breaks the wall of muteness. Two-Bit starts to laugh hysterically, and I'm left pale-faced surrounded by laughing greasers. Well, then.

A couple of minutes later, Ponyboy and Johnny arrive. I learn that Ponyboy has brown, almost red, hair with green (he insists gray) eyes, and a had a way of talking that made you understand exactly what he was talking about. I also meet Johnny, and learn he has black hair with brown eyes so dark that they almost look black, too. He mainly stares at the floor the entire time I talk to him so I decide not to ask any questions.

And then something crazy happens. We run out of beer. Don't worry, that's not what I'm talking about, although unfortunately it does happen. The front door opens and the most amazing guy I've ever seen walks in. He has dark brown hair and ice blue eyes, with a leather jacket and a smirk on his face. He also has a wild streak in his eyes, which makes him much more attractive than Superman altogether, even if he isn't as handsome.

"Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in! Glad to see you could make it, Dally." Steve says, and I step back, trying to watch the newcomer before he spots me first. As I notice how confident he speaks and how he seems to be in charge despite his age, I start to grow nervous about meeting the last member of the gang. He soon spots me. Don't. Say. Anything. Stupid. I have to mentally command myself.

"Hey, what's the chick doing here, Darry?" he asks loudly, his eyes going up and down over me, and I wildly fight my body's urge to blush. Here goes nothing.

"This 'chick' has a name. It's Pixi. I'm a friend of Two-Bit." I say as coolly as possible. If I surprised him with my response, he makes no signs of it.

"My apologies, kid. So, are you named after the candy, or are you secretly a fairy and not telling anyone?" he leans closer and whispers, "If so, feel free to work some magic on me, doll, I could use a chance at...relaxation, for a lack of better terms."

"You can go 'relax' with someone else, creep, I'm not interested." I say, struggling to keep my voice steady.

"Then why do I see longing in your eyes?" he replies, a hint of a smile on his face. I can't help it anymore. I blush, and I'm shocked at how easily he saw right through me. His smile widens, and I know the worst is yet to come. Why does Two-Bit always have to be too drunk to come to my defense?

"Dallas-" Darry starts.

"Save it, Superman." he responds. "It's always easier to surrender before the fight ever starts, darling. Just stop resisting." I feel his hand lightly touch my shoulder, and his lips press the side of my neck. Startled, I reach to the table behind me and grab the nearest object. A fork? Well, it'll have to do.

"Yes, but sometimes the weak prevail if the enemy is distracted." I say, and drive the fork as hard as I can into his shoulder. He yells, swears, tries to chase me, and then falls to the floor in pain. There's a shocked silence around the room, and I realize what I did. So, yeah, I run like a bat out of hell. By the time I stop running I have no clue where I am. Then rain happens. So much for meeting the gang.


	2. Chapter Two

By the time I make my way home I'm completely soaked to the bone, and have absolutely no clue what time it is. Home isn't exactly comforting, though, considering I live in an abandoned apartment on the fifth floor of a complex all by myself. The old residents were suicide jumpers, and nobody wants to buy the place now. Pleasant, is it not?

I convinced the landlord to let me stay without paying rent by making the building spotless on weekdays, and I try to school myself on the weekends. Wondering about my parents? They were the old residents. Let's just say I don't exactly have family members anymore. I try not to think about it.

I'm surprised when I hear a knock on the door, especially because it turns out to be 2:45 AM. I look out the small door window and see a drenched Two-Bit standing in the hallway. I quickly open the door and let him in.

"What are you doing here, Two-Bit? Do you know what time it is?"

"Don't you dare try to scare me away, I've been searching for you ever since the...'incident'. Fortunately, the rain washed out the effects of the alcohol." he says, looking around the place.

"How did you find me?" I demand.

"Wasn't that hard, considering you were running faster than Jesse Owens." he sits down after he completes his inspection.

"I didn't want you to come here."

"Look, I get you probably want to be alone, Pix, but-"

"That's not what I meant. I didn't want anyone to come here. It's not exactly a welcoming place." I sigh. "Sorry for stabbing your friend." he just shakes his head.

"I'm not sure friend is the right term to describe Dallas at the moment. He isn't always like that, I swear, Pixi." the way he talks makes me wonder wether he's trying to defend a member of the gang or mend my damaged feelings. Either way, I know I never want to see Dallas again. "Why didn't you tell me Darry was going to be that hot? I would've made myself look a little more presentable." I ask, trying to change the subject.

"I am a guy. You are a girl. While you may see Darry as hot, I just see him as a fellow guy. Besides, it didn't take much for a one to notice you." he grins, and I feel like smashing a vase over his head. I count to ten to calm myself down before I do something I'll regret.

"Did I kill the guy?"

"Nah. Just a dislocated shoulder."

"What?!"

"Kidding. He'll be fine. Just a couple of dent marks." Two-Bit assures me, and I somehow manage to feel even worse.

"Well, does he want to kill me?" I ask cautiously.

"Nope. He's just more convinced you want him to hit on you."

"perfect." I mutter.

"Pixi?"

"What?"

"Do you want him to hit on you?"

"KEITH!"

"Alright, I'm leaving. Take care, Sugar Crash." I quickly lock the door after he exits and spend the rest of the night wondering if what Two-Bit said might possibly be true.

The following morning I wake up with a killer headache. I guess that's what happens when you stab someone with a fork and then sprint for twelve miles in the rain. Karma really gets around, huh?

Usually, I spend a Saturday morning eating leftover cake in my pajamas from the diner, but since today is rainy, I sleep in and read books the whole morning. Later in the afternoon, I manage to drag myself out of bed to go find Two-Bit, wherever he may be. As I walk on the sidewalk, I close my eyes to the peaceful feeling of the wind blowing on my face. Unfortunately, the peace doesn't last long.

I spot the old Volkswagen out the corner of my eye and start to walk quicker. It's not smart for greasers to walk alone, because you're liable to get jumped by the Socs. The rich kids, who live on the other side of town. As the vehicle slows down and gets closer to me, I feel a sudden rise of panic. I hear the window roll down and pray there's an angel watching over me.

"Hey, baby, wanna go for a ride?" they were drunk, and there were probably six or seven guys piled up in the car. I act like I never heard them and keep walking with my eyes locked forward. Showing signs of fear never really goes over well. "HEY, YOU FILTH!! LISTEN TO ME WHEN I TALK TO YOU!!!!" I debate wether to run or to fire back insults. Fighting them off is out of the question, there's no way I could possibly win. Reluctantly, I shift my position so that I'm facing the car.

"Sorry boys, I've had one too many idiots try to hit on me this weekend. Go find something else to entertain you." the guy in the front seat swore at me, and the rest started laughing. I watch nervously as he slowly gets out of the car, and the others follow. I try to run, but someone grabs me and throws me to the floor. No fork to save me now. I feel someone kick my side, real hard, and I gasp for air. The main creep crouches in front of my face, and says,

"We don't like being polite to broads who think its smart to use their mouths for anything except kissing, you-" he curses at me. "You want to smart mouth us, fine, but we tend to play rough." I spit in his face, and I'm almost expecting a slap to come. It doesn't. Instead, I see a terrifying grin spread across his face.


	3. Chapter Three

By the time the Socs are through with me, I wish I had been beaten up instead. I throw up several times, and try to stand but I'm too dizzy. I hope they all go to hell. There are several rips in my clothing, and I decide to stay in the alley way where I was until it got dark out. I lean against the concrete wall and put my head against my knees, unaware I'm being watched until a moment later.

"Pixi? Is that you?" I inwardly groan and try to cover as much of myself with my hands as possible. I wasn't in the mood to see anyone, especially someone I barely knew.

"Please, just go away." not even Superman could rescue me now. The damage has already taken its toll.

"I'm Darry, remember? I met you yesterday. What happened to you?"

His eyes were wide with concern, and I couldn't help feeling surprised.

"Really, Darry, I think it speaks for itself." I say, closing my eyes, trying to wish everything that happened away. Without a word, he scoops me up in his arms, and I feel to weak to resist. I'm so exhausted that the second my head falls against his chest, I'm out like a light.

I don't know how long I sleep for. Two days, maybe three. When I finally do wake up, I realize I'm lying on a vaguely familiar couch with a warm blanket wrapped around me. Then I remember what had happened. How I had been rescued. That's where I am. The fork stabbing house. I try to stand, but my efforts are cut short.

"I wouldn't if I were you. Your headache will feel even worse than it does now." I look up and see Darry standing above me.

"Thank you for helping me." I manage to say eventually. There is a uncomfortable silence, and I notice he looks like he wants to say something, but he's holding back. He doesn't get the chance, because just then Two-Bit walks through the door. He sees me on the couch, looks at Darry, then to me again with a puzzled expression, eyebrows raised.

"Well, what the hell happened here?" he asks.

"Pixi got jumped," Darry says quickly, "I brought her back here to rest." he whispers something to Two-Bit and his eyes grow furious.

"I'm going to kill every last Soc on planet earth." Two-Bit growls, and sits down next to me. "Are you alright, Pix?"

"I'm fine. Just irritated, that's all." I reply, trying to make it sound like no big deal, that it didn't effect me as much as it did. "Thank you for letting me stay here, Darry, but I have to leave. There's a lot I need to do."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." He hesitates for a second, as if wondering what to do.

"Two-Bit, can I talk to Pixi for a second?" He finally asks.

"Be my guest."

"Alone?"

"Oh." He takes the hint and tells me he'll be at the diner helping his mother before walking out of the house.

"What is it? You've been apprehensive the whole time I've been awake." I question.

"Pixi, I told Two-Bit you were cut up pretty bad by the Socs. I didn't tell him everything they did to you. I don't really know who did this to you and the full extent of what happened, but I'm not dumb enough to fall for the, 'I tripped on my way to school' excuse."

"Ah. You want to know what happened."

"Yes. For your safety, it's better to turn these people into the proper authorities." For a second his eyes look so sincere I almost believe what he's saying. But I'm not fooled that easily. I let out a sharp, bitter laugh, and he looks taken aback.

"You're too smart to be roofing houses all day, you know that?" He doesn't respond. I mean, Keith has told me all about the gang. How you used to be on the football team, the star player. Must sting, not being able to take a scholarship." More silence. He clenches his jaw and looks away. He's angry now. "I know what it's like to have things taken from you, and suddenly you aren't yourself anymore. All the responsibilities hang on your shoulders now, and you've become used to giving so much, but only receiving just enough to live through the next day. My parents couldn't handle the responsibility of taking care of a child, so they jumped out of a window from a five story building.

"My childhood was taken from me that day. I was only eight years old, but I was the person responsible for making sure I didn't starve, that I had shelter. My life hung in the balance. Still does, probably always will. It's how I am, I don't like asking for help. I'm not a person known for liking other people. I'm a renegade, and the cops don't care too much for me, either." I look up at him, almost irritated at the sympathetic look he's giving me. It's my own damn sob story, and I don't need his pity. I exhale and control my temper.

"You're a sweet guy to think about me, Darrel, but it's not wise to get the boys in blue involved. Besides, I can take care of myself."

"Like you took care of yourself when those creeps defiled you?" He counters, voice shaky. I try to calm down and lower my voice a bit.

"Honestly, there's not much that could happen that I haven't gone through before. But, hey, if it'll make you feel better, I promise I'll stay out of any dark alleyways." He nods, his eyes telling me to be careful. I bend down to lightly kiss him on the cheek and say, "until we meet again, Superman." as I saunter out the door. Too bad I trip at the porch steps. Gosh, sexiness is such an overrated qualtity.


End file.
